


Rain is a Good Thing

by bohemeyourself



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:18:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemeyourself/pseuds/bohemeyourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rains keep everyone stuck inside, and Arthur gets cabin fever. Enter several tankards of ale, and some dancing in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain is a Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: rimming/felching

Arthur stood at the window, arms crossed over his chest. Outside the window, the rain beat a relentless rhythm against the grass of the training grounds, which have been reduced to nothing more than a giant, sticky mud puddle. Mud, the likes of which sucks the boots off of one's feet as they try, again and again, to train through the mess.

Ten days. Ten days since the rains had started, looking for all the world like they wouldn't stop until the entire kingdom had been washed away.

Arthur had persevered for the first week, continuing to train with the knights, shouting commands over the howl of the wind and the beat of the rain. But when two of his knights had fallen ill, and another injured a knee when he slipped in the mud, Uther barred him from further training until the rains let up.

Arthur let out a sigh of frustration. He shifted and leant against the sill, continuing to glare out into the storm. A particularly loud clap of thunder masked the sound of his door shutting across the large expanse of his room. It wasn't until his wayward manservant-turned-lover placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that he realized he had company.

"Lunch is here," Merlin's breath ghosted over his neck as he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the base of his skull. Arthur grunted in a noncommittal response, and Merlin stayed where he was, pressed against his back, chin resting on his shoulder. It was a long moment before he spoke again. "You know, the rain doesn't care how much you glare at it, it will fall regardless."

"I know," Arthur sighed, "It's just so _boring_ , being stuck up here with nothing to do."

"Well, think of it this way. Rain makes barley, doesn't it? And barley makes ale…"

"And without ale, there'd be nothing to keep me from gouging my eyes out during insufferably long and boring feasts." Arthur finished, knowing where Merlin was headed.

Merlin let out a chuckle, "Yeah, something like that."

Arthur suddenly had a thought, and he turned in Merlin's embrace, suddenly too bright-eyed and smug for his recent lamenting. "Speaking of ale… I have nothing planned for the rest of the day."

"Oh, no." Merlin's eyebrows disappeared into the raven hair. "This isn't going to be one of those 'Arthur and Merlin get drunk and do something stupid' incidents?"

"It might be," Arthur's smile widened into something conniving and malicious. He looked like Morgana. "Just go get some pitchers, will you?"

"Arthur…" Merlin began to protest. The prince shut him up with a kiss, which deepened to leave him breathless.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while." Arthur breathed against his mouth when he pulled back.

"Prat," Merlin sighed and left without another word.

After their third pitcher, most of which Arthur had finished by himself, Merlin was flushed a delicious shade of pink.

"It's really warm in here. Is it warm to you, Arthur?" Merlin's question was breathy and altogether sounded way more filthy than intended.

It also got Arthur thinking. "You know, we should go get some air." He stood, making a grab for Merlin's hands. He tried again, effectively hauling his lover into a somewhat horizontal position.

"Where're we going?" Merlin asked, giggling when he stumbled and wound up in Arthur's arms.

"Outside,"

Both men were soaked to the bone even as they reached the training grounds. Arthur had no idea what they were going to do now that they were there, so on a whim he whispered "catch me" into Merlin's ear and took off. They played like that, because there really was no other word for it, running and sliding and occasionally winding up in a heap in the mud, only to wrestle about for a bit before returning to their game of chase. It wasn't long before both were filthy, soaking wet and flushed despite the cold.

They paused their game and Arthur pulled Merlin close, resting their foreheads together as his hands found purchase on his hips. "You know, we've never kissed in the rain before."

Merlin was far too intoxicated to think up a proper retort, and with Arthur so close, all wet and streaked with mud, all he could managed was a stuttered "no."

Arthur closed what little distance remained between them. Merlin tasted like the rain, pure and sweet, and Arthur could smell the ale as he exhaled. He was transfixed, the slide of their lips, the tangle of hot tongues, and the cool rain that seemed to come from everywhere and collect in the space between them.

In a moment of clarity, Merlin realized that his wet clothes were far too constricting to be healthy, and that he was kissing Arthur _in public_ in the middle of a thunderstorm.

"We should get inside. We'll both catch cold if we stay out here any longer."

Arthur ground against Merlin, pressing his erection into Merlin's thigh. "That's not the only reason you want to get back inside." It was a statement, not a question, as his hips continued their dance, feeling the answering hardness against his own thigh.

They were soaked, and still slightly drunk, though most of the alcohol had dissipated during their tromp through the training grounds. They pulled at the wet clothes, peeling them off one by one, each garment hit the cold stone with a loud glop. Soon, they were stripped of everything, and there was nothing there to separate them, save the rain and the mud.

Arthur lowered Merlin back onto the bed, too engrossed in the feeling of his lover's wet body against his to care about how dirty the sheets got. Oil got added to the filth, and a pillow shoved under Merlin's hips, just at the right angle so Arthur could _watch_ as his fingers disappeared into Merlin's body.

When three of Arthur's fingers were accepted into Merlin's body, met with no resistance, Arthur removed them and used the oil on his hand to slick up his cock. Arthur took a second to stare at the beauty beneath him; Merlin's legs were spread wide, revealing his red and glistening hole, just waiting to be fucked open. His cock was rock hard and deliciously pink and _leaking._ Merlin's chest was rising and falling rapidly, flushed from his nipples all the way up to his hairline.

Arthur could wait any longer. He pushed, and they both gasped; Arthur at the tight heat suddenly drawing him in, Merlin at the gentle stretch of his muscles around his lover's length. After Merlin adjusted to him, Arthur set a quick and demanding pace, drawing a chorus of "oh fuck" and "God Arthur, faster, please" from those sinfully plump lips. Merlin's moans, coupled with the obscene noises their bodies were making, it was too much. He wasn't going to last. Repositioning a hand to brace himself on the bed, Arthur brought the other up to stroke Merlin, tugging his cock in time with his own brutally quick thrusts.

Merlin came with a strangled cry, and Arthur's cock seemed to explode as the tight heat became tighter, the muscles clenching down on him. He sought Merlin's lips as the stars faded from behind his eyelids, collapsing against him. Between their chests, Merlin's come smeared, mixing with the mud and the sweat.

Arthur's cock slipped wetly from Merlin, and the raven haired boy groaned at the loss. Arthur had other plans. "Turn over," He nudged Merlin's hip. "I want to see it."

Merlin obliged, moving sluggishly onto his knees. Arthur sat back on his knees, placing a hand on each cheek, pulling them gently apart to reveal Merlin's entrance. "Fuck, Merlin." His hole is still stretched open, red and glistening with oil. Arthur inserts a finger, and then a second when he is met with little resistance. He draws them out slowly, coaxing his seed back out of Merlin. It drips, sticky and slow, and Arthur can't help himself.

"You should see yourself, Merlin." He looked utterly debauched. Black hair caked with mud, still damp with rain and sweat, porcelain skin slick with sweat and oil. Arthur knows that on his front, his chest is painted with his own come, his neck littered with bitemarks that will keep him in that damn scarf for weeks. But the _piece de resistance_ , is watching his own come drip from Merlin's abused hole. It makes his cock twitch with interest, just moments after orgasm.

All intelligent thought has left Merlin, so all he can manage is a low groan as Arthur's tongue laps at the come dripping from his hole. He licks and licks until there is nothing left, until Merlin is clean, his hole shining with saliva.

"Mmmm, Merlin." Arthur sits back again, and Merlin collapses in a boneless heap. The prince chuckles, crawling over him to kiss him sweetly, and Merlin can taste himself in Arthur's mouth.

"Bath?" Arthur asks. "And maybe a nap, after you've changed the sheets."

Merlin smiles, rolling his eyes. "Yeah,"


End file.
